


Are There Canyons In Nigeria?

by Kerryopia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Reiner can cook because he's basically a mother don't tell me otherwise, Sassy Bertholdt bye I'm trash, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerryopia/pseuds/Kerryopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertholdt has a collection of Reiner's baby photos, and he doesn't want Reiner to ever, ever find out. Ever.</p>
<p>Reiner wants to know what he's hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are There Canyons In Nigeria?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nenekantoku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenekantoku/gifts).



> This is a sort-of maybe kind-of tribute to the tumblr user nenekontaku, the mun of askthebertl. Goodbye forever friends I'm gone

Bertholdt always looked forward to Sundays. Sundays were lazy, carefree days anyway, but they always held a special place in his heart. He always made sure to keep his schedule free those days.

            “You got any problem with chorizo, Bertl?”

            “I don’t think so,” Bertholdt replied, glancing up quickly towards the kitchen. His heart rate spiked – but, luckily, Reiner was still plastered to the stove like he lived there. Good.

            Because he was looking at Reiner’s baby photos.

            He hadn’t meant to take the album, really, but Reiner’s mother had insisted he take the photos he liked and print copies for himself, after the first three times he’d come round Reiner’s place and ended up spending a good couple of hours straight with Mrs Braun, cooing over baby Reiner’s chubby cheeks. He’d wanted to resist, he really had – surely it was a bit creepy to have an album of your boyfriends’ baby photos – but Bertholdt had never had very good will power, at least not in regards to Reiner. Resistance was futile.

            So he copied the photos he liked, gave back the originals, and bought an expensive leather album for himself. In an attempt to make himself feel slightly less pathetic and weird, he gathered some of his own baby photos up and copied them to intermingle with Reiner’s. Seeing himself as a kid; shy and unusually tall even then; beside pictures of a chubby, toddling Reiner made happiness bloom in his chest, clouding out his embarrassment tenfold. He wouldn’t regret what he’d done – he couldn’t. Reiner’s smiling, innocent face was better than any anti-depressant, any anxiety coping mechanism. He could just touch the binder when he was having an attack, and any sense of panic would wash away in an instant.

            This tiny blond boy hadn’t known Bertholdt, not then, but now the confident, gorgeous man he’d grown to be was cooking dinner for him in his kitchen.

            He sighed, pathetic and smitten. _Orange is the New Black_ was on, the living room windows and back door were both open to let in the cool mid-evening breeze, and his next door neighbour had recently mowed her front garden, filling the air with the scent of cut grass. Life was good.

            “Oi, Bertl. It’ll be about twenty-five minutes.”

            Bertholdt squeaked, his revere broken. He slapped the album shut and shoved it under the settee, back snapping straight to attention.

            Reiner eyed him suspiciously, rubbing his hands with a tomato-stained tea towel. “What was that?”

            “Um,” Bertholdt flailed, glancing anywhere but at his boyfriend. “Would you believe: nothing?”

            “Surprisingly, no,” Reiner replied, a laugh rumbling in his chest. The sound made Bertholdt’s heart flutter pleasantly. “You look happy, so spill. What is it?”

            “I’m always happy around you,” Bertholdt answered, unashamed. The pleased look Reiner got on his face when he was honest and dumb and love-struck like this was well worth any embarrassment, and after a while together of Bertholdt’s impromptu gushes it had just become par for the course.

            Reiner hummed happily, the sound deep and bass in his chest, like a purring cat. A wide grin spread across his cheeks. “Okay, now I _know_ something’s up, you big sap. What is it?”

            “It’s nothing,” Bertholdt squeaked, breaking out in a sweat as Reiner rounded on him. “Nothing, honestly. It’s not – _Reiner!_ ”

            Reiner lunged, tackling Bertholdt off of the sofa and onto the floor. They landed with a heavy thump, rolling around across the rug to get the upper hand on one another. Reiner’s hands went for his ribs, making Bertholdt squeal like a little kid.

            “Stop, _stop!_ ”

            “Tell me what it was!”

            Bertholdt hooked his shin behind one of Reiner’s knees, flipping them over. He tried to grab for Reiner’s hands, breathless with laughter. “This episode is really funny, that’s it!”

            “You’re a terrible liar,” Reiner laughed. “Tell _meee –_ “

            The blond broke out into peals of giggles, delirious and happy as one of Bertholdt’s large hands covered his mouth, muffling the sound. Bertholdt realised his mistake almost as soon as he’d made it – with one hand occupied covering up Reiner’s mouth, he couldn’t keep Reiner’s hands still. Both clamped enthusiastically around his sides, hitching up his shirt and tickling across his ribs.

            “ _Stop, stop, stop!_ ” Bertholdt squawked, flailing. He felt himself tip over, Reiner’s legs bent around his waist to flip him over onto his back. He landed, the breath whooshing out of him. His grabbed hold of both of Reiner’s forearms, desperate for him to stop, but the onslaught had left him breathless with giggles, too weak to do anything now. Calloused fingers he knew so well feathered over the bumps and divots of his intercostal muscles, the damp hollows of his armpits; the juncture of his hips.

            “Oh my god, Reiner, stop, _stop_ …” he wheezed, dizzy.

            “Tell me what it was, Bertl,” Reiner teased, grinning. “Where is it? Under the sofa?”

            “Nooo…”

            “Liar.” His fingers didn’t let up.

            “ _Reiner…_ ”

            “Give it up, Bertl, you can’t win. I’m a beast.”

            “Oh my god, you massive d-dork –“ Bertholdt sputtered a weak laugh. “There’s nothing there, you’re imaging things, you’re paran _oid-!_ ” His voice shot up an octave, an unflattering squeal pouring out of him.

            “Reiner, oh my god, Reiner, _stop it – unh…“_

            Reiner smirked, licking his lips. The heel of his palm was pressed into Bertholdt’s crotch. He ground down, hard, merciless.

            “Tell me. Bertholdt.”

            Bertholdt shuddered, sweat gathering at his temples. His flaccid cock twitched with interest, the blood already heading down south. “This – this isn’t an incentive… to tell…”

            “Well, we have –“ Reiner glanced at the clock on the wall, “Fifteen minutes. I think I can drag it out of you by then.”

            Bertholdt groaned.

            “Tell me.”

            “You have big boobs.”

            “Oh my god,” Reiner laughed, planting his face in Bertholdt’s hair. He cupped his hand around Berthold’s clothed dick, his other hand lovingly holding on to one of Bertholdt’s belt loops. “You little bitch.”

            “Just _quit it…_ ”

            “What, is the prospect of chorizo jambalaya more interesting than me? Rude.”

            Bertholdt hissed as Reiner’s hand tightened. He planted his knees against Reiner’s stomach in a sad attempt to push him off, but his boyfriend topped him by a good twenty pounds, and he wasn’t fighting that hard anyway. Reiner’s hands were large, and clumsy, but he knew Bertholdt’s body well, and Bertholdt couldn’t pretend he wasn’t feeling it. The heat of his palm alone was almost too much.

            “Pathetic,” Reiner teased, flexing his biceps. “Can’t even push me off an inch? So weak, Bertl. So weak.”

            Bertholdt huffed a laugh. “Maybe I’m the brains to your brawn, then.”

            Reiner’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, you are _so_ gonna get it!” He lunged down to kiss him, but the grin on his face bared his teeth and their incisors clicked together unpleasantly. They both squawked, and Reiner leant back, releasing Bertholdt’s belt loop to hold his jaw.

            Bertholdt’s teeth tingled. “Watch as we observe the caveman engaging in his courting ritual.”

            “Rude!” Reiner guffawed behind his fingers. He clenched his hand around Bertholdt’s cock, making him gasp. “Still gets you going, though.”

            “Seven minutes, Rei-Rei.”

            “I am going to _wreck_ you later, you sarcastic little shit.”

            “Whatever, power-bottom.”

            Reiner responded by unzipping his jeans.

            “Fuck,” Bertholdt mumbled, as the pressure alleviated from his dick. He hummed appreciatively, letting his head fall back against the rug while Reiner made himself busy pulling him out over the waistband of his briefs. His warm, calloused hands felt even better just for being so _familiar._ He _knew_ these hands, and knowing what they had done to him, over and over…

            His hips twitched, and Reiner groaned.

            “You are the worst kind of person,” the blond murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to his abdomen. “This is so unfair…”

            “I –“ Bertholdt stuttered to a halt, Reiner’s fingers running along the insides of his thighs, where his legs met his pelvis. He shuddered. That had always been his weak spot. He groaned when those fingers lightly tugged on his pubic hair, sparks of electricity shooting through his spine with the motion. “I can’t believe… _you’re_ talking about –“ Reiner kissed his hip wetly, making him gasp “- About ‘unfair’…”

            “You’re just mad because you know you can’t resist me enough to hold out for seven minutes.” He glanced up at the clock. “Or, y’know. Thereabouts.”

            “I thought this was, _unh_ , about getting this _secret_ out of me? Not getting an _orgasm_ out of me.”

            “Well, that too,” Reiner hummed affectionately. He spat in his hand, unashamedly wrapping his fist around Bertholdt’s cock, inches from his face. “I’m always looking for excuses; I _am_ a teenager after all.”

            “You’re nineteen,” Bertholdt corrected breathlessly. “You’re an adult.”

            “I’m in my prime,” Reiner combated, and made a point of quickly fisting Bertholdt’s dick, making him squeak. “Besides, I don’t see you protesting.”

            It was impossible to hold back his moans, even if he’d really wanted to – Reiner’s hand was rough, the spit too thin to relieve the harsh brush of his callouses. Maybe for anybody else this might have been too much, too rough, too sensitive, but Bertholdt’s body was tuned to Reiner on a fundamental level. He didn’t consider himself a masochist, but –

            Reiner’s hard, course thumb dragged over his sensitive glans, and he whined. “ _Reiner._ ”

            “Yeah babe,” Reiner teased, mouthing along his hipbone. He picked up his pace, his fist slapping against Bertholdt’s pelvis with every down stroke. He wasn’t worried about the sound; he knew Bertholdt could handle it. He, on the other hand, was finding it difficult to have his boyfriend’s cock so close to his face and not do something about it.

            “I’m gonna –“

            Reiner’s tongue curled over the head of his cock, and the shock of orgasm struck him.

            Reiner’s hand didn’t stop moving, his tongue and lips suckling at the slit until Bertholdt’s orgasm came to an end. Afterglow immediately hit him like a warm, heavy blanket, dragging his limbs down.

            He hummed, sluggish and content.

            Reiner gently tucked him back into his pants and zipped up his jeans, then shuffled up and rested his head on Bertholdt’s chest. He could hear the heartbeat, deep and strong.

            Bertholdt wrapped his arms around him. “Ugh…” he slurred.

            “Good?” Reiner chuckled.

            “Always.”

            “Love you.”

            Bertholdt smiled, looking down at the crown of his boyfriend’s blond head. “Love you, too.”

            “Wanna go have dinner now?”

            Bertholdt frowned. “Don’t you want to go have a drink first?”

            Reiner rested his chin on Bertholdt’s sternum. “Why?”

            “Won’t my come make the food taste bad?”

            Reiner spat.

 

\-------------

 

“So.”

            Bertholdt didn’t even jump when he felt Reiner’s muscular arms come around his middle, a testament to how close they were, or perhaps how stubbornly tactile Reiner was. His heart fluttered delightedly as Reiner leant his cheek against his shoulder blade, slightly too short to rest his chin on his shoulder. He continued to wash the dishes, contented.

            “What _was_ it you were hiding?”

            Bertholdt’s hands froze in the sudsy water.

            “Because all I found is that photo album and some dust bunnies.”

            Bertholdt choked.

            “Honestly, I was expecting like, a BDSM pamphlet or a stolen pair of my boxers or something,” Reiner continued blithely, stroking Bertholdt’s tense abs. “Although that’s not to say I wouldn’t give you a pair if you asked.”

            “How long did you –“

            “Dude, those photos came from my _mother._ She blabbed like it was the cutest thing ever the moment you left the house.” Reiner chuckled. “Which it is, by the way, you creepy adorable fuck.”

            Bertholdt only just managed to resist the urge to cover his face with his hands by reminding himself that they were both soaking wet. “Oh my god…”

            “Nice touch adding the photos of yourself, by the way. It’s sweet.”

            “Oh my _god_ …”

            Reiner leant up to kiss the back of his neck, which was bright red and damp with sweat. “Cutie-butt.”

            “I want to crawl into a hole and _die_ …”

            “Nah, you’re too big for anything less than a canyon.”

            “ _Reiner_ ,” Bertholdt strained, agonised.

            Reiner laughed. “Okay, okay.” He squeezed his middle. “Honestly though, it’s fine. It’s adorable. Don’t worry so much.”

            “I’m going to burn the whole thing and emigrate to Nigeria.”

            “Are there canyons in Nigeria? Help me out here.”

            Bertholdt made a short screaming sound high in his throat. “You are the worst. The _worst._ ”

            “Whatever, how many boyfriends have you had that can accept you for your weird baby fetish and still want to bone you?” Reiner paused. “Wait, don’t answer that. I creeped myself out.”

            “This is the single worst day of my life.”

            “Drama queen.”

            “You’re bottoming tonight.”

            Reiner spat again.


End file.
